


John Feeds the Ducks

by tinysoftdrinkstate



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Fluff, M/M, first fic, lams is adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:29:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8317399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinysoftdrinkstate/pseuds/tinysoftdrinkstate
Summary: “I was feeding the ducks on the side of the lake and I fell in and at first you laughed but then you helped me up and DAMN HI” AU from dailyau.tumblr.com





	

John Laurens loved to feed the ducks. Whenever he was feeling down or stressed or even just bored, he would beg the barista at the on-campus coffee shop for some old bread, and head down to King’s Lake, creatively named after the college John attended. He loved the serenity down by the lake, and if he was lucky, not many people would be around, and he could sit in peaceful isolation for as long as he wanted. 

On one such day, John had just gotten out of a particularly difficult math class, and needed some time to chill. Everything was going well, and after almost half an hour, he was feeling considerably better. He started to play a game with himself: how far could he throw the bread piece? It sounded a bit boring, but it was simple and therapeutic. He was getting really into a throw, trying to land it on a piece of bark floating in the lake, when he started to lose his balance on the concrete ledge where he was sitting. He toppled forward, and felt an instant chill from the frigid water. 

As he pushed his way to the surface, he heard an unfamiliar voice snickering. Sputtering, John hooks his elbows on the ledge and pulls up, so he’s resting on his forearms, with his lower body still in the water. “What do you think you’re laughing at?” John demanded of the stranger. Just as he said it, he got a proper look at the young man, and realized he was actually quite attractive. 

“You just fell into a lake; what do you think I'm laughing at?” Was the reply from the college-age Latino. 

“Whatever,” John grumbled as he attempted to pull himself out of the water. Attempted, because the wall at the edge of the lake was slippery, and, try as he might, John just couldn't manage to get himself up. Frustrated and stubborn, he resigned himself to his problem and stared straight ahead, pointedly ignoring the cute stranger, who, for some reason, was still standing there. 

After what felt like ages but was realistically less than half a minute, John’s intent stare was broken by an outstretched hand and the same stranger’s voice: “Here.” 

“What?”

“C’mon, I don't have all day. Get up!” The stranger’s voice wasn't as annoyed as his words conveyed. Actually, he sounded like he did, in fact, have all day, and was perfectly willing to spend it helping John out of the lake. 

“Thanks,” John mumbled, vaguely ashamed at not being able to figure this out on his own. Determined to just get back to his dorm, shower, and forget about the whole afternoon, he started walking away from the lake, shoulders hunched, hands in his sopping wet pockets. 

“Hey!” The now-familiar-ish voice was closer than John had expected, and when he turned around, CHS (cute helpful stranger) was basically right in his face - so close that John had to take a step back before almost growling his reply. 

“What do you want?” His voice was flat, deep, and borderline rude as it came out of his mouth, sending CHS back a few steps, looking put-off. 

“Nothing, never mind,” CHS said, turning around towards the lake, about to stalk off. 

“No, really, what is it?” John put conscious effort into making his words and his voice softer and kinder as curiosity got the best of him and he walked after the other man. 

CHS doesn't answer or move for a while, but after some time, he takes a seat in the middle of a nearby bench, and starts talking as John perches on the edge. “I just thought I could get your number - or at least your name! - in exchange for, you know, basically saving your life.”

He sounds so bitter that John almost wants to laugh, but chooses a more careful option instead. “Well, my name is John. Maybe we can get to the number part after I learn yours?”

CHS looks at John, and, rather excitedly, says, “I'm Alexander! You can text - or call, actually, I don't really care, so whichever you prefer, unless you don't actually want to, I guess -” 

John interrupted Alexander by grabbing his hand - a tool that seemed just as important as his mouth when communicating - and suggested that maybe they continue this at the coffee shop nearby, his treat? “Because, you know, you seem to have a lot to say.” 

Alexander blushed and nodded, letting John lead the way, their hands still folded together.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever posted! I hope you liked it! Don't be shy! If you want to talk, leave a comment or come over to my tumblr: tinysoftdrinkstate.tumblr.com. I will take requests for future fics on either platform, as long as I am familiar with the characters.


End file.
